Cruel to be Kind
by SophisticatedFangirling
Summary: For Ellie :) Previously known as 'the royalty drabbles'. Caroline is very much looking forward to her future as queen at the side of Tyler of Lockwood, when her dreams are shattered by a hostile army invading the kingdom. The cruel Niklaus of Mikaelson forces her to make a grave choice that will affect not only her own, but also the life of her family. Warning: violence, non-con
1. War

She dreamt of war.

She had never witnessed it herself, but she had heard tales from maids and the elderly knights that had fought under her father's command before she had even been born. The stories of bloodshed and bravery had left a great impression on her as a child. Her wild imagination had painted pictures in her head while she told herself made-up stories of heroism and camaraderie. She had been foolish enough to dream of herself as a knight, but the idea quickly lost its appeal when her father scolded her harshly. A woman was not supposed to fight, much less one of royalty.

And as much as she had enjoyed the idea of being a hero, she was quite content with being a princess. She loved the dresses, the way she'd spend her days sewing and helping her mother organize the court, the gossip of the maids and the prospect of a future as queen.

She was to be married to Prince Tyler of Lockwood, and for half a year now she had been living at the Lockwood court. Granted, she hated the queen and the king and she wasn't too fond of superficial and bossy Tyler, but he had been kind to her and a vicious mother-in-law was nothing she couldn't put up with.

Now that she was an adult, the pictures that her head created to illustrate her idea of war had lost their glory and told stories of tragedy and horror instead. War was not a good thing and had to be evaded at any cost, her father had taught her.

So this night, when she dreamt of war for the first time in years, she dreamt of bloodshed, screams of agony, the cluttering noises of swords crashing up against each other and the smell of smoke.

She was scared, deeply genuinely scared, but she knew she had to be brave.

And despite herself, once more, she was a knight, fighting a merciless powerful enemy. She stood no chance.

She felt the metal slide through her stomach and the next thing she knew the world was drowning in red. The feeling was more than she could bear, filling her with dread and agony, ripping apart her soul.

She awoke with a gasp, tears filling her wide eyes as she shot up.

It took a moment for her to realize that the noises hadn't faded. The smell of smoke was still hanging in the air. She jumped out of bed, rushing towards the window and saw the castle covered in flames, women screaming and men fighting in the yard right beneath it.

It was war and she was still shaking from the violence of her dream, as she realized that reality might hold an even worse fate than her imagination had painted for her.

She was no knight, she was a woman.

* * *

She took a few deep breaths, frozen in some sort of shock.

This was not the time to be afraid. This was the time to be brave, at least if she wanted to survive.

Her eyes raced through the room, looking for something she could possibly use as a weapon. The candle post would do.

She mentally went through her options.

Should she barricade herself inside until someone found her or should she try to flee, facing the prospect of being raped or murdered? She gulped, closing her eyes for a moment.

She grabbed her chair and rushed towards the door, effectively blocking it.

Then she moved to the very back of the room, clutching to the lamp post for her dear life, her eyes fixed on the door.

Who was attacking them? Why were they attacking them? Was there any chance of winning if the attackers were already here, on the yard. Maybe they had already seized the Lockwoods, maybe her fiancé was already dead, his dreadful mother, his cruel father, her maids Anna and Vicki, the gentle stall boy Matt. Images rushed through her head and she had to fight the nausea rising up in her stomach.

The screaming outside was unbearable and she desperately tried not to listen. She didn't want to recognize the voices.

She shook her head. _No_. She couldn't stay inside and wait for her doom like this, she had to do something.

All of a sudden, she felt that her fear was gone, as if it had been drained out of her. She stopped thinking. She rushed towards the door and removed the chair, as silently as possible.

Slowly, she opened the door a few inches, peeking outside.

Nothing.

Quickly, she slipped into the hallway, the candle post clutched tightly in her hands and decided to head left to a secret staircase that led downstairs.

She ran.

She heard a noise and halted abruptly. Screaming. She could hear somebody _screaming_ from one of the rooms. If she was careful she could sneak by without being noticed.

Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the voice.

_This was Vicki._

_She could hear Vicki screaming._

She took another shaky breath, the nausea and the fear returning as quickly as they had faded and she closed her eyes, leaning against the wall to gather herself.

No, she couldn't leave her like this.

Carefully, she tiptoed towards the open door.

There was a man inside, ripping Vicki's gown, _about to-_

She rushed inside and without hesitation she rammed the candle post into the back of the black-haired man. Her eyes widened and for a moment she couldn't conceive of the fact that she had actually done this. She heard him cry out in pain. The steel of the candle post was piercing through the armor, penetrating his flesh. He fell to the side, revealing a hysterically crying Vicki.

Blood spilled on the floor and the man groaned in agony.

Quickly, she grabbed Vicki's hand, pulling her off the bed and out of the room. There was no time for sentimentalities.

She turned around, ready to run, but stopped as she beheld of the figure blocking her way.

Her eyes widened as she saw that it was another knight, his armor drenched in blood.

She froze. _She had no weapon._

He had beautiful features but his gaze was calculating and cruel. One look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

She pushed the still sobbing Vicki behind her protectively, taking a defensive stance.

From the room she heard groans and cursing by the man she had stabbed.

_She had no weapon._

His gaze was still piercing her, making her blood freeze in her veins.

He took a threatening step forward and it shook her out of her state of shock.

Quickly, she turned around and grabbed Vicki by the upper arms. "Vicki, _run_," she said, but the girl just stared back at her. "**RUN!**" she shouted and Vicki flinched, then nodded. Caroline let go of her and Vicki did what she was told.

She could hear her frantic footsteps as she turned to face the man again.

He hadn't moved.

He frowned at her as if he couldn't decide what to make of her actions, his head tilted to the side.

Time froze again and she could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.

"I can't decide whether you're brave or foolish," he said, still eyeing her with interest, but she could feel an air of danger coming off him, as clear as the stench of death filling the air.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter, since I'm going to be dead soon," she answered, glaring at him with all the hatred she could find in herself.

He raised his eyebrows and from one moment to the next she suddenly found herself pinned against the wall, his sword at her throat.

A shaky breath escaped her as her wide eyes met his, only inches away. He looked at her as if she was a riddle he tried to solve. Not a person, but rather a _thing_ he tried to figure out.

"_Well_," he snarled and the viciousness in his voice and features caused another wave of panic to swell up in her chest. "Who says I'm going to kill you yet? I might have other plans for you, love."

Her eyes widened even more, as she realized what he was implying. She scoffed.

"_I'd rather die_," she spat, her upper lip curled up in disgust as she glared back at him.

He smirked in amusement, raising his eyebrows.

"What's your name, girl?"

"What does it matter?" she snarled, overwhelmed by intense hatred. It was too late, anyway.

He surged forward, pressing the sword tighter against her neck, violent rage blaring up in his features.

"**I am ****_not_**** a patient man, love. I've got quite the temper.** **ANSWER ME!**" he yelled in her face and she flinched.

"Caroline," she quickly blurted out. "Princess Caroline of Forbes."

He frowned in surprise as he loosened his grip on the sword.

Her breathing was ragged as she waited for what was to happen next.

He took a step back, a smug grin appearing on his face.

"Now, love," he said as she stayed frozen, with her back to the wall, fear shaking her body. "That certainly changes things."

She frowned at him, not sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

"That bitch tried to kill me!" When she turned her head she could see the man she had stabbed, stumbling out of the room, an expression of pure rage on his face.

She flinched.

The other man raised his eyebrows then eyed the wounds of his fellow soldier, an appreciative expression on his face as he turned his head back to her.

"You'll live, Damon. Get downstairs, I killed the king and his heir, we are done here."

She felt a pulling sensation in her stomach and she nearly doubled over as she processed what he had just said, her fists clinging to the fabric of her dress as tears rose in her eyes.

_Tyler was dead. _

_They had lost._

Damon grunted in protest, but one look from the other man made him change his mind so he turned to hobble down the hallway towards the stairs, giving Caroline one last murderous look that made her blood freeze.

_This man wanted her dead._

When he was gone she felt her legs give out underneath her and she let herself slide to the floor, her back against the wall as she tried to get her breathing and her tears under control.

She could feel the man's gaze on her skin but she didn't care.

It was all too late anyway.

_They had lost. She was doomed._

He kneeled down before her, eyeing her intently.

"Now, tell me, love. What does a Caroline of Forbes do at the Lockwood court?"

She tried to answer him, but her words got stuck in her throat as her breathing became more erratic. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and her head shot up in fear. But despite her expectations she saw that his expression had softened.

"No one is going to harm you, I promise," he said, his voice soothing and she saw a mixture of wonder and… _regret?_ in his eyes.

She shook her head, unwilling to hear his lies.

Almost gently he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"I am sorry for scaring you. It's going to be okay, you're under my protection now."

She frowned up at him, her breathing finally halfway under control again.

"Why?" she asked him, her voice hollow, tears still running down her face.

He frowned at her, licking his lips as he raised his thumb to wipe away a tear. She could feel a tingling sensation where he had touched her skin and her heartbeat sped up again.

She froze, now absolutely confused by his actions.

The shaking and the crying stopped.

"Why are you here, Caroline?" he asked, his voice calm and friendly.

"I am… was to be married to Tyler," she answered, remembering her loss.

A smile spread on his face.

He got up on his feet, holding a hand out to her to help her up.

She didn't take it, but instead got up on her own, her legs still shaky, but she could handle herself. Strangely enough, the fear had receded to a bearable level.

He smirked, raising his eyebrows.

He snuck his hand around her waist, leading her towards the stairs.

"Can't have you trying to escape, can I?" he chimed.

Then, suddenly, he halted in his steps, the smirk growing on his face and turned to look at her.

"Oh, how rude of me," he started. "I haven't introduced myself yet."

She frowned up at him.

He grinned down at her, as if he was genuinely enjoying himself.

"I am Prince Niklaus of Mikaelson. Call me Klaus."


	2. The stench of death

She was led down the stairs and into the yard.

There was a commotion outside. The soldiers had started celebrating their victory. Corpses covered the ground, in some places they were even piled up on each other. The stench of blood, smoke and alcohol lingered in the air, blending into a distinctive smell that she knew she would never forget again. She covered her nose and her mouth in an attempt to keep it away, but the air left a taste in her mouth that almost made her vomit. She felt as if something evil, something rotting was entering her body and her mind and there was nothing she could do about it.

Her vision grew hazy as she tried not to look at the bodies. She didn't want to recognize anybody. The whole scene seemed surreal to her.

Her dream had seemed more real to her than this.

But for some reason her legs moved on their own as he led her outside, his hand still on her waist.

She saw something familiar in the corner of her eye and she felt her stomach drop, horror claiming her chest. She stopped breathing.

_No._

_No._

_Don't look._

But despite herself, her head turned on its own and her eyes widened as her dreadful suspicion proved to be true.

_Matt_.

The kind stall boy that had made her time at the Lockwood court so much easier, especially in the first few months. Despite his status, he had been Tyler's best friend since childhood. The two of them had spent it playing knights in the hay of the stall, learnt riding together until Carol had forbidden most of their contact.

Sweet, gentle Matt's corpse lay on the ground before her.

She could see his gut bulging out of the gashing wound in his side.

His eyes were still open.

Her legs gave up beneath her and she would have fallen to the ground if Klaus hadn't caught her.

She felt his gaze on her, but she didn't turn to look at him, sobs wracking her body.

_Of all people he did not deserve this._

"**Let go of me**!" she yelled and to her surprise, he did.

She stumbled to her knees before the body, hands desperately grasping for the fabric of his shirt.

_This had to be a dream_.

At this point she would have gladly exchanged her nightmare for her reality. If she could have died for him she would have.

Teardrops fell from her eyes to his open chest and she almost threw up as her wide eyes raced over the wounds.

"_Matt_…" she whispered. "_No…._"

But this was her reality now. This was no nightmare.

And all she could do was try and find Vicki and Anna, to see if they were still alive.

She felt herself sobering up. The sense of helplessness, the surreal quality of the scene faded. They were replaced by bitterness and anger mixing with her grief and strangely enough she also felt a sense of emptiness. Trying to escape the situation, denying reality by not facing it was not going to lead anywhere.

This was how it was going to be.

Slowly she sat up, wiping the tears off her face.

Matt should have lived long and died a peaceful death.

He was staring up at her, the emptiness of death in his eyes and she felt as if it was the exact same sensation that was growing in her chest. Yes, something had died in her this night.

Gently she brought her hand up to his face and closed his eyes. Then she leant down and pressed a small kiss to his forehead.

"_Goodnight, Matty_," she whispered, taking a last long look at his face.

Slowly, she got back up on her now steady feet and turned back to her captor, a sense of righteous anger burning in her. He hadn't moved from his spot and looked at her with an unreadable expression.

She was standing up straight, her accusing gaze fixed on his.

"You did this," she stated, her voice harsh and clinical.

He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.

"It's what I do, sweetheart. I'm afraid this is just collateral damage, nothing personal."

She scoffed and shook her head, eyes still fixed on his.

This was a merciless man, someone who didn't care the least bit about the pain he caused with his actions. A man of war.

"At least let me find my other friends," she spat and didn't even wait for his response as she turned around and looked around in search for familiar faces.

She wasn't trying to shield herself anymore. She recognized a few corpses. She felt nothing. She accepted the information as swiftly and clinically as if it was about the weather.

There was a group of survivors, prisoners, guarded by a few of the soldiers. Despite her detached state, a small sensation of relief rushed over her as she spotted both Anna and Vicki alive, dresses ripped, but at least physically unharmed.

She rushed forward, crying out their names.

The two girls instantly turned their heads, clearly surprised and relieved at her arrival. Vicki tried to make her way towards her but was roughly stopped by one of the guards.

A smug, filthy smile spread on the face of another one, as Caroline reached them.

He grabbed her by the upper arm, shamelessly eyeing her up and down.

"Now what do we have here…" he said, but before he could continue yanking her towards him, she was ripped from his grasp and then he was on the ground, hands covering a bloody nose.

Beside her stood Klaus, his expression seemingly calm and collected. But in his eyes she saw a cold, lethal rage, that instantly sent fear racing through her again.

The commotion around them had grown silent and as she looked around, she realized that all eyes were fixed on Klaus. Among them she spotted Damon. Instantly, she looked away, more fear shooting through her.

Klaus turned his head towards the crowd. He raised his voice. His tone was slightly sarcastic, almost bored, but conveyed a distinct sense of unquestionable authority.

"**She is a war prisoner and not to be harmed. The next one that touches her loses his head.**"

Nobody spoke or even dared to whisper.

She looked up at him, a big frown on her face.

He looked back at her, his expression still unreadable. The cold fury disappeared from his eyes the moment their gazes met, and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. There was something about him that drew her to him, something she couldn't quite pin point.

He was clearly in a leading position.

If she was only a prisoner, why would he hit one of his own men in order to make his point that she was not to be touched?

"Caroline," Vicki's alarmed voice broke the moment and she turned her head.

She realized that the crowd had started going about their business again.

Vicki threw herself at Caroline, and she returned the embrace. She was less detached, felt a little more now, she realized, as she experienced a considerable amount of relief.

"I thought you had died. I thought you had died for me," Vicki sobbed and Caroline tried to comfort her by caressing the back of her head.

"No, it's okay. I'm just so glad you're alright."

Anna stepped up behind her, an empty look eyes.

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked.

The look in her eyes betrayed that something had happened to her. She looked detached, but as always, also proud. Caroline saw that she was holding her dress together, it was ripped to shreds. They exchanged a long look and Caroline's stomach sank.

Finally, Anna spoke up. "My mother is still alive. I will be alright."

Caroline nodded, gesturing for her to join the embrace and she did.

And for now, amongst Vicki and Anna, she felt a sense of comfort.

At least not everything was lost.

* * *

At some point, Klaus held a short speech, announcing his victory, thanking his knights for their performance and promising rewards for their loyalty.

He was a good speaker, obviously delighting not only in the bloodshed but also in his position as a leader. It only made her stomach turn as she watched his men holler to the words that announced that she was standing in the ruins of her own future.

She felt herself growing increasingly tired, both emotionally and physically.

When Klaus ended his speech saying they would head back home the next day, she realized that the challenges of this night were far from over.

What kind of plans had he made for her?

She fought down the fear and tried to appear stronger than she felt, standing up straight and keeping her head held high.

After drinking and talking with a few of his higher rank knights – with an uneasiness she realized that Damon was among them – he approached her.

She did her best not to recoil and forced herself not to look away.

"Come with me," he commanded and deciding that resistance was futile, she did as she was told.

They both knew there was no place she could run to, with all of his knights knowing who she was.

She followed him back into the castle, to the sleeping charters of her deceased in-laws.

The uneasiness she felt grew with every step she took.

She halted in front of the door, finding herself unable to step inside. He grabbed her by the arm and gently pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.

She took a few steps away from him, trying to put as much distance between them as possible and eyed him carefully.

To her horror, she watched him rid himself of his armor, revealing a simple thin set of trousers and a shirt. He picked up a pair of shoes that had obviously been put there for him.

Then he walked over to a table where an array of foods was set.

She stayed where she was, watching him with a frown on her face.

"Sit," he ordered, looking back at her and reluctantly she moved towards the table, sitting down opposite of him.

He gestured towards the food. "Eat."

She looked down at it and felt her stomach turn again. The stench of death still held her in its grasp, making it impossible to even imagine eating without having to hold back the nausea. She shook her head.

He frowned at her. "Eat," he repeated. "You had a rather exhausting night."

She scoffed and fixed her gaze back on his, not hiding her disgust. "To be honest I'd rather throw up than eat right now."

He only raised his eyebrows and sighed, then started eating himself.

She watched him, her frown deepening. She felt misplaced.

She was sitting in the room of her now dead in-laws, barely having survived a night of fear, loss and carnage and was watching her captor eat.

He raised his head, his gaze burning into her.

"There is something we need to discuss," he said, his voice clinical.

She scoffed. "Yes, there is. What do you mean by _'war prisoner'_?"

He smirked. "It means you are a prisoner of value."

Her frown deepened even more. "So what do you plan to do to me?" she asked, her upper lip curled up in revulsion.

His gaze darkened a little and he looked less amused. "I let you live," he stated, his voice harsh. She froze. "I'd ask you to watch your tone. I've told you before, I'm not a patient man."

She glowered at him, anger taking over again, blocking out the fear.

She didn't really have much left to lose anyway. And being angry felt like a much better option than being afraid.

"Yeah? You killed my friend and my fiancé. My maid was raped. You destroyed my life. I still don't even know why. And I have no idea what you plan on doing to me. Excuse me, but your patience isn't exactly the first thing on my mind."

He raised his eyebrows in astonishment. Then, from one moment to the next his gaze darkened considerably and he leant forward in a threatening manner. "It should be," he simply said and pinned her with his gaze a little longer before resuming eating.

She held her breath, forcing any further comment down, and waited for him to continue talking.

"I have an offer to make to you," he began, having calmed down a bit.

He laid down his cutlery, seemingly finished with his meal.

"An offer you cannot refuse." There was a glint of excitement in his eyes.

She crossed her arms and waited for him to elaborate.

"You see, I am an ambitious man. For the last few years I have been building an army big and strong enough to conquer pretty much any kingdom on the continent."

He sat back, watching her while he spoke, a smirk spreading on his face.

"Coincidentally, the Forbes kingdom is one of the next on my list."

She froze, her eyes widening. Images raced through her head. She _did _have something to lose. The idea of reliving this night, of the stench of death covering the place she had called home for most of her life, inspired a whole new dimension of fear in her.

_No._

"Relax, love," he said dismissively, and she realized her hands were clutching to the table. The offer, right.

He leant forward, his gaze growing even more intense. She had never met anyone who held such an influence over her with only the way he looked at her. She felt trapped.

"I imagine you want to evade this prospect at all costs. Fortunately, there is a way both you and me get what we want."

She stared back at him, holding her breath in anticipation of what was to come. His smirk grew and he almost seemed giddy with excitement.

"You become my wife, I become the heir of the Forbes kingdom and there is no bloodshed necessary."


	3. A Choice

_"__You become my wife, I become the heir of the Forbes kingdom and there is no bloodshed necessary."_

At first, she was in shock. She gasped in pure disbelief, staring back at him with wide eyes.

Then, the reality of what she had just learned crashed down at her and she felt another wave of nausea building in her chest.

_No._

She covered her mouth with one hand, leaning back into her seat, trying to process the information.

With how he had presented things there was no possible way to deny his offer. She couldn't let him murder her family.

_Never mind the fact that he had robbed her of her future today, he had already decided on a new one for her. The ghastly parody of a choice, a thoughtfully set up trap that she could not help but walk right into._

She was just overwhelmed. Never in her life had she been faced with such calculating cruelty.

"_Why would you even want that_?" she asked him, weakly.

"I fancy you," he simply stated and she raised her head to look at him.

The grin had faded from his face. He looked slightly displeased, but not explicitly threatening.

For now.

"What?" she asked, looking at him in disbelief.

_Of all possible answers, this would have been about the last one she'd had expected._

Here he was, forcing her into a marriage only hours after he had slaughtered her fiancé. A man who did not seem to care about her opinion, let alone the idea that she might have one. And now he possessed the insolence to say he did this _because he fancied her_?

He raised his eyebrows, the mocking smirk returning to his lips. His eyes, though, remained cold and calculating.

"You're brave, honest, loyal, selfless,_" _his eyes darkened while he spoke. "_Beautiful_."

A shudder went down her back, as her fingers dug into the skin of her am.

"Why wouldn't I want you?"

She scoffed, shaking her head, while blinking rapidly.

This _had_ to be a nightmare.

How should she respond to this man? He was the epitome of entitlement.

Complimenting her like that, as if to flatter her, only to lace his words with a not so subtle threat. Pretending to give her a choice, while knowing that there was really only one way she could take. Talking to her as if he genuinely wanted to hear what she had to say, while clearly implying that there was only one answer he would accept.

_Did this guy honestly want her to thank him for this?_

"And if I refuse?" she asked.

His eyes darkened more and she saw his jaw clench.

"I conquer your parent's territory, slaughter your family and make you my mistress," he simply responded, his voice indifferent as if he was talking about the most ordinary thing in the world.

She just stared back at him in horror.

Great.

Just wonderful.

She laughed dryly, biting her lower lip as she stared down at her hands, trying to come to terms with what she was faced with.

"That's not my decision to make," she said. "It's my fathers."

One last try to escape, although she knew it was futile.

Klaus got up from his seat. "Oh, he will agree," he simply stated. "Or you will make him agree."

She laughed out again, covering her face with her hands.

She didn't have a choice. He had left her no way to escape.

She'd never dealt with anything like this, and to be honest she couldn't quite grasp it yet. It felt surreal, like she was dreaming and would wake up to her old life at any given moment. That prospect felt a lot more likely than the idea that this was actually happening.

She was in shock, the sharp edge of terror pricking in her chest. But she was also angry, very angry at this insolent monster that dared to dress himself as a man. Maybe this was a defense mechanism. But somehow she felt, if she let go of her anger, there would be nothing left to shield her.

Again, she felt the exhaustion overcome her. She was annoyed by her own weakness, but she really wanted nothing more than to escape this endless night of horror into sweet, dreamless sleep. Even thought she knew she would have to wake up again and face this tomorrow.

"You should go to bed," he stated.

She wanted to nod in agreement, but froze mid-movement.

For a moment, she felt like she couldn't move.

_To bed… did he mean_-

There was a moment of silence between them as she once again fought the desire to just pretend none of this was happening.

"You can decide tomorrow, you should sleep now," he said and she looked back up at him.

He was still standing beside his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

She couldn't escape him, no matter how much she wanted to. It was not like her not to face a challenge. Even if this proved to be one of a caliber she hadn't dealt with before.

Reluctantly, she got up from her seat.

She sighed, shaking her head. "There is no decision to make. You left me none," she stated, raising her gaze to meet his.

She took a few steps towards him. Be _brave_, she told herself and held her head high, not looking away, despite the fact that she still wanted to. _Just pretend you know that you can do this._

"But there is one condition," she said.

He frowned. "This is not a negotiation, sweetheart."

She stared him down, ignoring his comment.

"I want the survivors to be safe. I want you to make sure your men don't harm them further than they already have."

There was another moment of silence between them and she could basically taste the tension. She forced herself to stay calm.

"Okay," he simply stated. The condescending smirk returned to his face, but to her surprise, that was all he had to say.

Whether it was because he was not using this opportunity to threaten her, or because she felt safer because she had been able to stand up to him so far – suddenly the shock faded, replaced by a burning anger. It nagged at her, the desire to make him fall from his throne. Foolish, maybe, but it felt like she needed to hold onto this to keep her sanity.

"Alright, I will marry you," she bit out.

She saw a glint of excitement in his eyes, and in that one moment she wanted nothing more than to smack the smug look off his face.

"But there is one thing I want to make clear."

He looked at her expectantly, raising his eyebrows.

She took another step towards him until she was only a few feet away from him. This was a crucial moment. She could not mess this up. She knew there would be consequences, but there were things worth risking them. She didn't hide the disgust on her face, her anger clearly visible in her eyes.

"I _despise_ you," she sneered, every bit as vicious as she knew he could be. Instantly, she felt a rush of gratification, a long missed sensation on this endless night of terrors.

She watched his gaze darken instantly, an air of danger radiating off him but she didn't regret her words. Wasn't honesty one of the qualities he appreciated in her, after all?

He took a step forward and grabbed her face in his hand.

Her heart stopped as her eyes widened, but she did her best to hide her fear. This was to be expected, after all.

He bent downwards, his face dangerously close to hers, his burning gaze piercing her, everything about his gestures intimidating.

"You shouldn't _anger me_, love," he hissed and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

His gaze turned more calculating, as slowly, affectionately he let his hand glide down from her jaw down the side of her throat. Her skin tingled where his fingertips touched her skin, and she felt a numb sensation spreading all through her body as her breath grew heavy.

His hand finally rested on the side of her neck, close to her shoulder and she could feel his breath on her skin. She felt dizzy.

"But I will be lenient, you had a rough night," he said, almost softly.

She blinked, staring back up at him.

Suddenly, he pulled her closer to him so that her head was pressed against his chest, his mouth beside her ear.

"But just to be clear, misconduct has consequences," he sneered, his voice vicious and cruel and she realized his former softness had been nothing than another tool in his game of intimidation.

She gasped, her heartbeat speeding up again as fear shot through her.

It was clear what he wanted to do, point out to her that she was completely at his mercy.

But she already knew that.

No matter how much he scared her, she wouldn't be a submissive damsel in distress, not if this was going to be her whole life.

As quickly as he had grabbed her, he let go of her again, taking a step back, his cold gaze still fixed on her.

"You should sleep now. Lie down over there." He made a small gesture towards the bed as he turned away, heading towards the door.

'_I have my own bed_', she wanted to say, but she figured it would be best not to challenge him anymore tonight. The shock was still cold in her bones.

At least it seemed as if he was going to leave her alone for now.

Slowly, she made her way to the bed, hearing the door close behind him.

Finally, a moment alone.

She let herself sink into the covers, lying down as far on the side of the bed as possible and instantly, she felt the tears break.

Tears about Vicki, _Matt_, Tyler, Anna. Tears about all the other people she had seen, lived with every day that were now dead, or robbed of their home. Tears about herself and her future, that had been taken from her and replaced by one she dreaded.

But she was exhausted, so she quickly felt herself dozing off, crying herself to sleep.


	4. Testing the Waters

She woke up to a feeling of comfort.

There was a nice scent around her, she couldn't quite tell what it was, but she liked it.

It was warm and the covers beneath her were soft, but she felt something hard against her back. Not

uncomfortably hard, on the contrary, a body she wanted to snuggle into, an arm draped around her waist-

Her eyes shot open and she let out a small squeal as she shot off the bed, frantically turning around to face whoever was-

Of course.

She took shaky breath and her hands clutched to the fabric of the sheets as last nights' event came back to her.

He was lying beside her, smirking up at her with his eyebrows raised as if he considered this situation to be very amusing.

She clasped on tighter to the sheets, dragging them up to cover herself as she tried to process what had just happened.

_He had touched her_.

What had he-

"What did you do?" she snapped, glaring down at him in a mixture of fear and anger.

"Well, I was sleeping. And if I recall correctly, so were you," he answered her, the amusement evident in his voice.

She stared down at him, blinking a few times as her anger only grew.

_Seriously!_

His gaze grew more serious, the mirth leaving his eyes and his hand shot out to pull her back onto the bed. Her eyes widened in fear as she recalled what kind of situation she was really in, what kind of man he was, as he leaned over her, gazing down at her.

"But trust me, love, if I had done what you were implying you would have woken up in the process."

She felt herself blushing as she froze, her heartbeat speeding up in both fear and something else she couldn't quite identify.

He lowered his hand to her cheek and slowly ran his fingers over her skin, causing a tingling sensation to spread through her body. It created a strange mix combined with the hollow terror claiming her chest.

"But now that you brought it to the table, I'm quite in the mood," he said, another smirk forming on his face and she gasped in horror, staring up at him in disbelief.

_He couldn't be serious!_

She moved her hands to his chest to push him away but he didn't let her, raising his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

"Get off me!" she spat, glaring up at him as she tried to wiggle out from under him.

"You're not helping your case," he said, smirking as he took a quick glance downwards and she stopped, freezing again. "Besides," he began, stroking her cheek again.

She held her breath, fear surging through her.

He was going to do it. He was going to touch her against her will, take her virtue.

She had no idea what this man was capable of, but she had seen some of it the day before.

He ran his thumb over her lower lip and all she wanted to do was escape somehow.

"You're my betrothed. Why not?" he asked.

"Not officially," she spat, trying to push him away again.

"Not yet," he countered, not moving from his spot, as if she wasn't even trying to get him off her with all her might.

Her mind raced, trying to quickly come up with a way to get out of this situation.

"If I am to be your wife you should at least _try_ to treat me with some decency. How do I even know whether you are going to hold true to your promise? None of this should happen before marriage, it's not right," she rambled, staring up at him as confident as she could despite the fact that her heart beat like a drum in her ears.

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes darkening a little.

"You doubt the truthfulness of my promise?" he asked, his voice cold and she felt fear take hold of her again.

_No_! She forced it down. She couldn't be weak in this kind of situation, not if she was going to spend all of her life with this man.

"How could I possibly trust you? I don't even know you," she snapped.

She saw his expression darkening a little more.

"I know you told me I shouldn't anger you but then _don't make me say things that anger you_," she said, her tone more compliant now. She had to somehow manipulate her way out of this.

For a moment that seemed like an eternity to her, he didn't respond at all, just kept staring at her.

Then, finally, he pulled away, letting himself fall back into the pillow.

"I _apologize_, love," he said in a mocking tone that made it clear that about the last thing he would ever do was genuinely apologize for something. "It appears I forgot my good manners for a moment there."

He sat up, rising from the bed. She realized that he was wearing nothing but pants, she got a good view of his naked chest. Embarrassed, she looked away.

But there was a small part of her that was at least halfway relieved, the part trying to find whatever was to save in this situation, bits and pieces she could survive on. At least he was handsome.

He pulled a shirt on while turning back towards her.

"We will have plenty of time for that soon. Last night I sent a messenger to your parents' court. As soon as he returns we are going to head for the kingdom of Forbes."

Her eyes widened. So soon?

"But didn't you say you were going to head back home yesterday?"

A smirk grew on his face. "Change of plans."

He headed for the door, then turned around one last time.

"You should bathe yourself and get ready for the journey. And _eat_," he said, his expression once again somewhere between serious and threatening.

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him and she took a heavy breath of relief.

She should try and wrap her mind around this. Quickly.

She wasn't given a choice in the matter anyway.


End file.
